


Spider and Fly

by Trash_King



Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_King/pseuds/Trash_King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shift of their relationship as mentor and student shifts, ever so gradually as the spider weaves it's web and ensnares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spider and Fly

The relations between Alana and Hannibal have always been something like an intellectual dance, for lack of a better term.  
Two opponents standing on each end of an opinion coming together: learning, adapting, assimilating.   
He leads and she keeps pace- Twist, turn, steps, dip, glide.   
Matches word for word, stitching them meticulously into one single piece that, despite it’s clear differences, meshes. 

They fit.

There is no doubt that Hannibal is dangerous. It is entirely too easy to be drawn to him. He knows to appeal.   
He knows to appeal to her sense of curiosity and lead her in, weaving thread after thread around until she is all tangled up.  
Leaving the door ajar slightly, knowing she’d be the one who’d push it open.   
He is intoxication in it’s purest form, and the longer Alana stays, the more captivated she will become.   
The worst of all things would be that should anything happen, it would entirely be her own responsibility and her own consequences to bear.

As such, she had no one to blame for the resulting event that transpired.   
Perhaps it was the recognition of a shift between the atmosphere when he flirtatiously asked why they did not begin an affair back in her student days.   
Perhaps it was in the way he had smiled when he offered a private reserve of beer just for her. Perhaps it was in the way he caught her eye during the dinner meeting.   
Or perhaps the spider has long weaved the web and was simply waiting for the fly to bumble into it.

Perhaps, it was the steady weight of his hand against her waist when he extended an invitation to actually dance. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes when they met hers.   
Perhaps, even perhaps, in that lingering contact when they stepped away. Minute, subtle but felt all the same.

Somewhere between her third obligatory glass of alcohol, Alana decides to stop questioning for a change.   
She stops, allows the pleasant flow of conversation amongst the other guests to wash over her, like the rush of warmth in her bloodstream- waves, ebb and flow.   
The kiss had taken her by surprise as much as it had to him. She had been ready to leave, already stepping out of the door, when he had expressed his concern on how it was ill advised to drive in her current state. And in an effort to meet his eyes once more, she stumbles slightly, balance off kilter from her momentary lapse of attention. 

Their proximity when he caught and steadied her rang alarm bells, suggesting that she better pull away. And strangely enough, she is unable to comply.   
Not when they were close enough, she could hear the sound of his heartbeat- even, thrumming with the low hum of life.   
If she concentrates enough, she could hear her own hummingbird heartbeat fighting to tear it’s way out of the cage that restrains them, beating it’s own answering drumbeat against his. Two counterpoints- interdependent and yet independent, flowing into a single piece. A symphony. A private orchestra.

She imagines that she sees a brief flicker in her mentor’s eyes- unfathomable, quick to disappear behind it’s shutters as rapidly as it had flitted into existence. 

And she kisses him. It was no more than a gentle, if not hesitant touch of her lips against his but it was enough to light her nerve endings on fire. 

In that very moment, the fly is ensnared.  
Or perhaps, have been right from the beginning…


End file.
